Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"What's this on your calendar Saturday night?" Severus asked abruptly, pointing at the parchment as Hermione stirred their latest brew one Wednesday in mid-May.

Hermione frowned softly. "Nothing unusual. Why?" She finished the requisite number of stirs, set the rod aside, and lowered the flame. It would have to simmer for two days, according to her calculations. She turned her full attention to Severus.

"You have it blocked, and I need you."

Hermione ignored the delicious little shiver his words evoked. "Oh, I always block my Saturday nights. It's a habit from when I was at Beauxbatons. Harry used to visit pretty regularly, usually without any prior notice, to have dinner with me, and it was just easier on every level if work wasn't on my calendar then." Spying his enquiring look, she clarified. "I didn't resent the interruption, and he didn't tease me mercilessly about my obsessive work habits." She frowned again. "What do you need me for?"

"Lucius is making me go to the Anniversary Ball now that I don't have poor health as an excuse."

Hermione repressed a smile at the slightly petulant tone in his voice. "What does that have to do with me? And anyway, the Anniversary was last week. Isn't the ball over already?"

"The Anniversary was last week, but the ball is this week. The Ministry, in its infinite idiocy, feels the weather is more reliable in mid-May. Didn't you get your invitation?"

"I never bother to open it. I know I don't want to go, no matter when it is, so I usually just bin it as soon as it arrives."

"Then you'll have to attend as my date. They're very strict about only admitting people who have an invitation."

"But Lucius isn't demanding my presence," Hermione pointed out as calmly as she could manage. She couldn't believe he would expect her to go to that particular event. It was impossible.

"No, he's demanding mine, and he expects me to 'behave properly,' as he put it. I need someone to come along who can diplomatically extricate me from tedious conversations before I resort to verbal evisceration, or worse. That's you."

Hermione's anxiety began to grow as she tried a different tack. "I can't go. I don't have anything to wear."

Either he didn't realise or he didn't care how strongly she didn't want to go, because he insisted, "Well, then, get something. Owl Madam Malkin – I'm sure she'll have something suitable."

"Severus, you can't expect me to go on such short notice! I'd have had to order from Madam Malkin weeks ago. It's completely out of the question!" She hoped she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.

Unfortunately, Severus remained determined. "Didn't one of your classmates open a competing shop? One of the Patils, wasn't it?"

"Parvati, but that's not the point."

His expression barely changed, but Hermione knew him well enough by now to know he was mentally rolling his eyes. "Of course it's not the point. The point is, she'd probably welcome the chance to dress you – it would give her an edge in what's, apparently, a very difficult market to break into."

"What do you know about the fashion market?"

"Whatever Narcissa rattles on about when I have dinner with the Malfoys. In this case, she mentioned Patil was having difficulty cracking the market, which Narcissa thought was because the designs were too trendy."

"I can't believe you paid any attention to that," Hermione muttered, annoyed that he wasn't giving up this ridiculous idea.

"Information, no matter how dull, is never entirely worthless. Now, stop procrastinating and go owl your friend."

"If she says she can't, will you drop this?"

"She won't."

As it turned out, Severus was correct. Much to Hermione's dismay, Parvati was thrilled to have the opportunity to outfit a war heroine for such a public event.

The night of the ball came far too swiftly for Hermione's comfort. She found herself unable to talk Severus out of his insistence that if he must attend, so must she.

For once, the worst part wasn't the time it was taking away from her beloved research, which was really saying something, since she had spent half the afternoon taming her hair, and the other half on makeup and, if she was honest, mental preparation. This time, the worst of it was the event itself. The memories it brought back were anything but pleasant, and not just because of all the wonderful people who had had their lives cut short on that awful day.

No, the ball itself was the worst of it, from her perspective. She had only gone to one Anniversary Ball up to now, and she had never intended to see another one. The first one had been so completely traumatic that she couldn't imagine ever going back. She wasn't sure if Severus had ever heard about that debacle – she was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was difficult. It had been so very public, after all. Still, he had been caught up in his own problems, then – barely out of hospital, defending his life and his actions in what had been billed the "Trial of the Millenium" by Rita Skeeter and her ilk, so it wasn't completely out of the question that he hadn't heard of her humiliation.

She wondered if Ron still went to these things. Although they had eventually managed to reclaim some semblance of their former friendship, the Anniversary Ball was, by unspoken but firm agreement, never to be mentioned in front of Hermione by any of her friends; Ron might have attended all of them or none of them, for all she knew. She hoped he wouldn't be there. It would cut too close to see him in that setting.

Refusing to think about it any further, she finished her preparations and went into her sitting room to have a drink as she awaited Severus.

Moments later, he arrived just as she polished off the Cosmopolitan she had requested from Winky. He declined her offer of a drink; then, to her surprise, he complimented her suavely on her appearance as he handed her a lovely black and white corsage. Smiling for the first time all day, she magically attached it to the gorgeous royal blue dress robes Parvati had somehow managed to whip together on just a few days' notice. "How's that?" she asked, turning to show him.

"Lovely," he assured her, before offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

Mentally steeling herself, she carefully laid her fingers on the rich black silk and allowed him to lead her to the Apparition point.

When they arrived at the Ball, Severus glanced around to see if he could spot Lucius. He was hoping to find the man early, play nice with whomever Lucius was determined he should see, and then get out of there before his temper got the best of him. Although he could acknowledge it had improved now he was physically well, he had discovered at the last Board meeting that the company of sycophants and dunderheads still set him off – it just took a few minutes longer.

He had tried every argument he could think of to convince Lucius he shouldn't come here. The event commemorated the events of some of his worst nightmares and memories – and considering the life he led, that was saying something. Unfortunately, Lucius would not be swayed. When, in desperation, Severus had pointed out that this would be a distraction from his campaign to keep Hermione at Hogwarts, Lucius had said, "Bring her with you, then. It's time she started showing her face at these events, too."

Severus had been surprised to hear she didn't go every year, as he would have expected of any good little Gryffindor war heroine. Perhaps she just didn't like to remember the battle any more than he did – she had lost a number of people she considered friends there, after all.

In any event, when he finally realised he wasn't going to get out of attending, he decided he would drag Hermione along with him, for two reasons: first, it was (indirectly at least) her fault he could no longer use ill health as an excuse – and he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't have preferred ongoing ill health to attendance at a big, loud, Ministry self-congratulation for something they hadn't even done. He chose not to share that reason with her, however. Instead, he had shared the equally true second reason: he would need someone to help him avoid hexing anyone who got on his nerves. He had expected her to be pleased with the implied compliment and agree immediately, so he was surprised when she argued so strongly, and persistently, against going.

Still, she had eventually agreed, and that was all that mattered. It occurred to him suddenly now that they had both been silent for too long – not all that surprising from him, as he still didn't like small talk, but quite unusual for her. Glancing at her, he saw she was looking anxiously around her, as though fearing a rogue Death Eater would appear from behind the drapery. "Stop fidgeting," he ordered, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "What's with you? You can't be that anxious – all your friends are sure to be here."

"Yes, but they know why I don't come to these things," she snapped. He raised an eyebrow. Surely his comment didn't merit such a strong response. She flushed as she seemed to realise it. "Sorry. It's not your fault this is bringing up bad memories. Though given you dragged me here, you're just going to have to put up with my displeasure at being here."

Severus frowned. "Is it really that bad? I could tell Lucius you're ill and we could leave ..." He looked at her hopefully. She laughed, as he had intended, and he felt his lip twitch in response.

"Ah, there you are, Severus. Come and say hello to Augusta Longbottom – and do try to be more circumspect than you were last time, will you? Hello, Hermione, you look lovely." Watching Lucius lean down to kiss Hermione's cheek, Severus mentally acknowledged that Lucius was at his urbane best in dark grey silk robes, even as he squelched the urge to yank Hermione away from his long-time friend.

"Hello, Lucius," Hermione smiled, though her smile had an edge Severus hadn't seen recently. "I suppose I have you to thank for my presence here."

"Surely you're not still intent on avoiding these things," Lucius replied smoothly. "It's been seven years – you must have put it behind you by now. Everyone's friends again, yes?"

Severus frowned. Seven years? The final battle was eight years ago. And who exactly was 'everyone' and why had they not been friends? Suddenly certain he had missed something important, Severus glared at Lucius.

When he turned to Hermione, he discovered she was also glaring at Lucius. "Just because I no longer want to kill him doesn't mean I want to revisit it all, does it? And if I see her, I won't be responsible for my actions, so if she's here, you'd do well to keep her away from me."

Uh oh. This didn't sound good. There were, after all, only so many things that would make Hermione want to kill someone, and probably even fewer that would have her holding a grudge this long. After all, she had forgiven him, hadn't she? And his transgressions had been extended over a period of years, not a single night. Glancing between Lucius and Hermione, Severus realised she looked ready to explode. He decided it was time for a strategic retreat. "Hermione, allow me to escort you to the bar. You must be parched. Lucius, we'll see you at dinner."

"What about Mrs Longbottom?"

"I promise I'll charm her in a little while. Hermione needs a drink right now." Without waiting for a response, Severus steered her in the direction of the bar.

He waited until she had taken a sip of champagne before speaking again. "I hesitate to ask this, Hermione, but given I suddenly find myself playing your designated role in this evening's festivities, it appears I'm lacking critical information. Who, exactly, do I need to keep away from you?"

She flushed a (rather fetching, if he cared to admit it, though of course he didn't) shade of pink. "So, you really don't know? I'm glad, you know. I thought you probably didn't – you wouldn't have made me come here if you had, would you? I mean, I didn't think you would, but ..."

"Hermione, you're not answering my question."

She took another sip of her drink before answering. "Pansy Parkinson. And I'd be just as happy not to see Ron here, too."

Oh. Even Weasley couldn't have been that stupid, could he? "I thought you and Mr. Weasley were on good terms these days."

"We are, to a point. But not here, I don't think. It's too much to expect me to forget what he did last time. Not to mention the reporters will have a field day if they spot us together. I don't want to go through that again."

"You should have told me. Had I known ..." Severus said irritably, then stopped. He hadn't asked, and it wasn't really a surprise she wouldn't volunteer the information. Huffing, he continued, "Well, I'm not sure what I'd have done, to be honest. I'm not unsympathetic, but for one thing, I still need you here, and for another, it's probably better you get this over with. You don't want people thinking Pansy scared you away permanently, do you?"

"No, I suppose not," Hermione sighed. "It was so humiliating, though, and I don't want to be an object of anyone's pity or the subject of a scandal ever again."

Severus took a sip of his drink. "I'm sorry to say you can't control whether people gossip about you." At her disgruntled look, he sighed.

As he looked at her, a plan began to form in his mind - one that would help her make it through the evening, while at the same time advancing his own plan to get her to stay at Hogwarts. However, even just the idea of it made him mentally groan. He also wasn't sure if she would agree to it, but thought that perhaps she was just about vulnerable enough that she would. He looked at her again. Was he really going to volunteer to be the object of gossip? Well, Lucius has been after me to make a grand gesture, hasn't he? Severus reminded himself silently.

As she looked at him curiously, he decided this was too good an opportunity to pass up. He said carefully, "However, you can, to some degree at least, influence what they say." She didn't immediately respond, so he continued softly, "If you like, we can endeavour to keep them focused on wondering whether something is going on with us, instead of on past scandals and heartbreaks."

Hermione straightened, looking intrigued even as she protested with quiet certainty, "You hate attention like that, Severus."

"Yes, well, I offered anyway, didn't I?" His Slytherin dignity demanded that he at least request something in return, though, grand gesture or no. Besides, she'd probably be suspicious if he didn't ask for some sort of quid pro quo. "You can pay me back later, if you want."

"How?" she asked warily.

There was really only one thing he wanted from her at the moment. Fortunately, she was a Gryffindor rather than a Slytherin – if she agreed, she would be as fair and reasonable as she could in return for his assistance. "Would you at least seriously reconsider your resignation?" Her surprise showed on her face. They had avoided the topic of her notice for weeks. He hurried to assure her, "Not that you have to stay, but that you'll at least consider staying?"

"Er ... all right. If you're sure."

Severus felt as though a hard knot in his chest loosened, but there was no time to examine that just now. He had gossip to create at the moment. "I'm sure," he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips.

As the evening progressed, Hermione found herself feeling as though she were caught in a spell of Severus's making. He was unfailingly witty, charming, and attentive. She found she didn't have to rescue him from very many conversations, after all, though he frequently used her as an excuse to rescue himself so she supposed her presence was making it easier for him. "Excuse me," he would say with a small smile, "but I really must dance with Hermione." (No one was more surprised than Hermione to find him an accomplished dancer). Or (usually when Hermione could see he felt about to expire from boredom himself), "I'm sorry, Hermione, we must be boring you. Shall we find you another drink?" Then he would ever so lightly touch her elbow or the small of her back and guide her away.

It was as though having a role to play kept him entertained enough that he didn't have any problem being polite to everyone he spoke with – even the dunderheads and sycophants, Hermione thought, amused at the term he had used earlier when he had seen Lucius approaching with a couple of Ministry officials. And he was so very good at playing the role – when taken as a whole, his behaviour gave a distinct impression of romance, but he did it in the way only a very subtle Slytherin could, so that later, no one would be able to pinpoint any particular touch or comment as conclusive proof of their relationship. She could see why he had been such a good spy – he'd probably have made a great actor, had he been so inclined. Actually, now she thought of it, his teaching had been full of drama, too – he had always used his wardrobe, as well as his speech and body language, to full effect, so in a sense, he had been an actor, just not on the stage.

Now she was having a hard time remembering this was an act, designed to steer gossip in a direction of their choosing. They had been caught a few times by various photographers, and one or two reporters had tried to corner them, but there were advantages to being with someone who was known for both his desire for privacy and his general ... well, scariness. When Hermione had literally bumped into Ron, Severus had glared at a nearby photographer, who had promptly lowered his camera and backed away without snapping a single shot. Then he had given Ron a perfunctory nod before whisking her away to the other side of the ballroom.

The most interesting moment came when Hermione, on her way back from the ladies room, was unfortunate enough to find Pansy Parkinson blocking her path. She felt her temper flare, as she had feared it would, and it was all she could do not to hex the other woman. When she had caught the cow with Ron in the cloakroom seven years ago, she had been too devastated and too shocked to form a coherent thought, never mind an appropriate insult. All these years, that had been her one great regret about the whole mess – she had never been able to tell her nemesis exactly what she thought of her. Now, reining in her temper with a supreme effort, she said coldly, "Get out of my way."

Pansy smiled ferally, apparently not recognising her peril. "Or you'll do what, Mudblood? Stand there gawping like a fish?"

Hermione smiled, palming her wand but not raising it just yet. "You can call me all the names you want, but if we really consider, I'm not the one who shagged another woman's man in a public cloakroom, am I? I wonder if your mother did the same thing – it would certainly explain why your behaviour is so low class, wouldn't it?"

Pansy's face turned a very unattractive shade of mottled purple. "You – you cow!" she exploded, pulling her wand and pointing it at Hermione. "I'll teach you to insult your betters!"

Before Pansy could utter the curse she no doubt planned, Severus's voice joined the fray from behind. His tone was almost bored as he said, "Finite Incantatem."

Hermione was stunned when Pansy's perfect appearance underwent a sudden transformation – she had apparently used a series of Glamours on everything from her hair to her dress robes to her shoes. Severus's use of that single, very simple spell, therefore, left her looking rather bedraggled and extremely humiliated.

She whirled, opening her mouth to berate her new tormentor, just as a series of flashbulbs went off like strobe lights. "How dare you?" she shouted. "This is none of your business, so just stay out of it! That Mudblood bitch has humiliated me for the last time."

"Nonsense," Severus said, stepping past her and taking Hermione's hand as he smiled at her briefly before turning back to the other woman. When Pansy's eyes widened, Hermione realised the slut hadn't registered just who she was screaming at – perhaps all those flashes had blinded her, but how anyone could mistake that voice, she had no idea. Severus continued, his voice dripping with disdain, "You've humiliated yourself, and probably not for the first or last time. Hermione had nothing to do with it." Turning his attention to Hermione, he asked softly, "Are you all right?"

She grinned, delighted with him. "I'm perfectly fine, Severus. Thank you." As though from a distance, she heard Pansy's impotent scream before the woman rushed past her into the ladies room. Seconds later, they distinctly heard a crack of Apparition.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, with Hermione riding a wave of triumph at having faced down Pansy at last, combined with a hazy feeling of pleasure at how staunchly Severus had stood up for her. Later, she couldn't recall the content of conversations she remembered having with quite a few friends and acquaintances, including Harry and Luna, Lavender and Dean, Parvati and Seamus, Neville and Hannah, and any number of Weasleys and their assorted spouses or significant others. In fact, the only one that penetrated her fuzzy mind was when Ginny and Draco, who had been dating since last year's Anniversary Ball, announced they were engaged.

At the end of the evening, Severus left her at her door with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. As she cleaned her teeth and removed the pins from her hair, all the warm feelings she had been experiencing through their charade all evening seemed to coalesce in the spot on her cheek his lips had touched.

She fell asleep cradling her cheek, with a smile on her face.